Metal Gear Solid: Guns of the Patriot (41 page)

Then the worms, content at having entirely supplanted JD, solemnly engaged in their planned self-destruction.

It had happened so quickly.

Screams and whispers, innermost feelings, lies and confessions.

Every human story spoken or written, flowing through the networks of the world.

Every business transaction, real or virtual. Whether over the phone or by email, someone had declared love; someone had demanded a breakup.

Devouring every scrap of day-to-day information, the Patriots’ prediction and control reconstructed the universe into a jail where everything was predetermined, woven by the biggest and most complex narrative in human history.

A book titled
Reality. A 1:1 Map
.

A single large tale written by coldhearted, arrogant, and lonesome gods in the belief that restricting the human narrative was the only path to preventing the extinction of the human race.

Effortlessly brought to failure, then destruction, by the stories of only three people.

This day, before my eyes, a universe perished.

The warm pulse of network traffic cooled in an instant, falling into eternal silence.

I felt like I had witnessed the last moment of time, the heat death of the universe.

Snake, Hal. It’s you, isn’t it? I hope you’re listening.

Naomi’s face appeared on every wall of the server graveyard.

I sank to my knees in astonishment. Naomi smiled at me.

She had smiled when she heard Sunny made the eggs well, and she had smiled many times when we talked together.

But I’d never seen her smile like this.

Of course, she wasn’t actually looking at me now; this was a prerecorded message.

The virus you uploaded used GW as a conduit to annihilate the entire AI network—all four AIs along with JD, the core that tied them all together. I’ve set this video to play once they’re all gone.

Sons of the Patriots was only the beginning.

The Patriots were planning to use nanomachines to implement the System to control the entire population.

I had an obligation to stop it.

With a little help from Sunny.

She believed her talents could help you all put GW to rest.

She created an anti-AI FOXDIE.

The virus’s name is FOXALIVE.

It’s the conceptual opposite of the nanomachines I created all those years ago.

We wished to free the captured foxes … to let them run free in the wild.

Her expression showed no trace of darkness—no sense of tragedy, or the pain she must have felt. Her smile was that of one friend talking with another. Her smile was that of someone nestling close to the one she loved. Her smile held no cynicism and was so typical as to become beautiful.

Naomi had reached the horizon of that smile.

Believing that the dead couldn’t forgive, I had strived to live a life without regret. Misdeeds, once committed, couldn’t be undone, and so the only avenue was recompense. I thought the same applied to Snake and Naomi.

But Naomi had come much, much farther than us. She had arrived at the final destination for souls; a place accessible only after one’s time on Earth had been spent.

And we saw it.

We saw the smile of a woman who had stepped into the world beyond atonement.

By the time you hear this, I’m afraid I’ll be gone.

This is a strange feeling. To be alive, recording a message for after I’m dead.

Hal … If you’re listening …

“I’m listening,” I said. I’d never felt anything so nice as to hear her call me Hal.

I’m sorry I deceived you.

It hurt me more than anything else, lying to you like that. I wanted to apologize to you before I died … but not even that was allowed me.

And yet, in the end, I finally can feel the joy of living.

Thank you, Hal.

I realized that now, with everything over, I didn’t need to hold back my tears.

Her choice couldn’t have been a happy one. Afflicted by illness, she used the time she had left to make amends for her sins. Few would find joy in thusly spending their last days.

Yet her eyes were at peace.

Snake … hear me.

Still on the ground, Snake lifted his head.

Our country is an innocent child once more.

A new dawn is rising. Now she can build a new destiny for herself.

Snake … the time has come.

You’ve earned your rest.

Snake had mangled Frank and watched the man be killed. He had stolen Naomi’s brother away from her, and I know he carried it with him. I know this from his doubts, during our briefing, when he asked if she was on our side. During the Shadow Moses Incident, Snake said to her,
Naomi, I don’t blame you for wanting me dead.
He carried her hatred on his back.

But Naomi had forgiven him, after the incident nine years ago.

And now she had finally been able to tell him. She didn’t hate anyone anymore—but to fulfill her duty, she couldn’t let Snake know.

After she died, Snake thought he would never earn her forgiveness.

And now, to suddenly be granted that which he thought was lost, Snake felt bewildered. The legendary warrior was not used to such kindness—strange, since he had so much kindness within himself.

Her speech at its end, Naomi’s gaze turned off-screen, to somewhere in the distance—as if she could see her next destination. Her eyes held no fear. Or maybe they did, only for an overpowering hope to scatter such shadows and lead her ever forward.

She looked not just to the past, but also to the future.

The rose petal is about to fall.

In the end, everyone went to the same place.

“Soon, I’ll be there,” Snake said. The man-made rose and the snake born not from nature. Our stories were near their end.

Another violent spasm racked Snake’s body. He hardly had the strength left to even cough. His chest convulsed and his muscles clenched, and Snake curled into the fetal position.

“I’ve set things right. Now let me go.”

And Snake slipped from consciousness.

5

HELICOPTER BLADES BEAT against the sky, and their sound slapped his eardrums.

The ocean’s scent.

Snake tried to lift his eyelids, but they were as stiff as fired clay. Finally, he managed to force his eyes open—only to see Liquid Ocelot, arms folded, standing atop
Haven
’s bridge, gazing down at the calm, tranquil sea.

There were no sounds of battle; no gunfire, no shouts. Only Mei Ling’s booming voice echoed from
Missouri
’s loudspeakers, announcing the battle’s end and attempting to stop any remaining small pockets of hostilities. “Stop this pointless fight,” she declared. “This is no war.”

The low pressure front had been swept away, and the sunlight shone on the top of the bridge. The flat oval roof was covered in plates of stealth material and a layer of OctoCamo, and several transmission antennae stood like columns.

His long, black leather coat fluttering in the wind, Liquid kept his eyes on the ocean as he said, “Rise and shine, Snake.”

Snake lifted his chin from the cold floor and moved his body slightly. He was still in pain, of course, but not more than he could handle.

“Look,” Liquid said. “The war is over.”

Snake got to his knees, and then to his feet. Surprised that he had been able to do so, Snake stood on the roof of the bridge and saw the battered
Missouri
along with several smaller craft, moving here and there to mop up after the finished fight. A US military helicopter flew overhead.

“Why?” Snake asked.

Liquid didn’t act confused or angry about the defeat of his plans. If anything, he seemed relaxed. He just stood there, gazing at the tranquil sea, and Snake couldn’t explain why.

“If you had wanted to stop us,” Snake said, “you should have been able to.”

Any way I looked at it, a server room guarded merely by a swarm of Scarabs didn’t make sense. I supposed a gunfight among the rows of the AI’s exposed hardware would have been unworkable. But Liquid knew that the server room was his opponent’s final target. Surely he could have prepared a more suitable line of defense.

Liquid shrugged. “Stopped you? Why would I want to do that? This is just as I’d hoped things would end.”